Every Moment
by WildwingSuz
Summary: How long can they resist?


**Author's Notes: ** This started as something totally different; I really wanted to do a funny story about the two of them unintentionally turning each other on. However, this one went in a somewhat different direction so I'll just have to try again with another story, I guess…

**Spoilers:** _Hungry, Rush, The Goldberg Variation, Orison, The Great Maleeni. _Takes place in early Season 7.

**Summary: ** How long can they resist?

Thanks to Alia for a very helpful beta; I couldn't do it without my second set of eyes!

This is the R rated version of a NC-17 story. Please write me privately for the password.

* * *

**Every Moment**  
Rated R  
By Suzanne L. Feld

Scully had called me when I was about halfway to her place to pick her up for work to tell me that she was running late and to use my key when I got there. When I let myself in the first thing I felt/smelled was the warm humidity of a shower, mixed with the delicate floral fragrance of the body wash she uses. Closing and locking the front door behind myself, I was drawn like a magnet to the small square hall where the bedroom and bathroom doors were. Her bedroom door was open, showing the room empty and the bed unmade—unusual in itself—and the bathroom door was ajar, letting pale swirls of steam escape.

I could have resisted looking in there like I could have resisted chasing after an alien if it walked up and tapped me on the shoulder.

Placing my eye to the crack, I nearly gasped out loud but caught myself just in time. Scully stood before the sink toweling her head with a thick yellow bathtowel—and that was all she wore. The mist swirled around her and nearly filled the bathroom, but I could see just fine. Better, in fact, than I probably should have been able to at that moment.

I drank in the sight of her glorious naked body, perfection in a small, compact, muscular yet beautifully feminine-curved package. She was lush yet lean, muscled and athletic beneath the compact hourglass figure. Her skin was pearl-colored satin, the flaming hair hidden beneath the towel but the neatly-trimmed, dark reddish curls at the junction of her thighs visible from the way she was standing, and the only splash of color on her body. Her nipples were pale pink… at least until she got aroused and then her entire chest flushed, bringing them to a deeper rose color even as her breasts swelled and grew firm under my hands and lips...

Of course by this time I was hard as a rock and ready for action, but I forced myself to move away from the door and, with leaden feet, dragged myself back to the kitchen and helped myself to a cup of coffee from the pot. Scully's slowly cooling almost-full cup sat on the table and I sat gingerly at the chair next to it, adjusting myself so I didn't either bend my cock or poke myself in the stomach. Since I've been working with Scully I've had a lot of practice at managing untimely erections.

"Mulder? You here?" Scully's voice echoed from the far room.

"Yeah, waiting for you," I called back.

A moment later she appeared in the bathroom doorway on the other side of the living room, her hair out of the towel and laying dark and limp down to her shoulders instead of up and poofy in its usual bob. She was tightly wrapped in her favorite knee-length white terrycloth robe, but I could tell she wasn't wearing anything under it mostly by her bare legs and the way it clung to her damp body. "Sorry I'm running so late this morning," she said, walking over and picking up her coffee cup, resting one hip lightly against the table. "Had trouble sleeping last night so I took a Xanax, and then I didn't want to get out of bed this morning. Must've hit the snooze button six times."

"Stay up all night, then you don't have to worry about it," I said with a wry grin, lifting my eyes to hers as my smile faded. Our gazes met, held, and in her eyes I saw the same thing I was feeling: deep, frustrated desire. Made worse by the fact that we now knew what we were missing, the one thing we could never have again anytime soon if ever.

Each other.

:::

I probably shouldn't have walked out into the other room in my robe while Mulder was there, but I really needed another jolt of caffeine to help me wake up. The brief, hot shower hadn't done much to clear the Xanax-caused muzziness from my head; I used them as sleeping pills since they made me sleepy without the dangerous side effects of others like Valium. Normally they didn't cause a medication hangover the next day, but I hadn't taken one until nearly one a.m. and five hours' sleep wasn't enough to let it wear off completely so I was still very groggy and tired.

But I'd had to try and get _some_ sleep. Two weeks of desire-induced insomnia had me on the edge, closer to cracking then I'd ever been.

And now here I stood before Mulder wearing nothing but my thin bathrobe that clung to my body since I hadn't been able to fully dry off in the hot, steamy bathroom. My wet hair dripping on my shoulders was growing cold and uncomfortable through the light terrycloth, and I gulped my lukewarm coffee as I averted my eyes. "I'll get ready as fast as I can," I said, moving away, unable to bear Mulder's deep, longing gaze for another moment without jumping on him.

Which we'd agreed not to do again at least until our work on the X-Files was completed, which we both knew might never happen.

I blow-dried my hair quickly, the styling gel I'd put in it while it was still wet helping it to hold its shape until I was able to lightly spray it. As I walked from the bathroom to the bedroom I saw that Mulder was still sitting at the table, staring out the window next to the stove and seeming deeply lost in thought. My coffee was cold and I wanted to warm it since there was still some left in the pot, but I didn't want to disturb him with my presence so I just went and got dressed.

"All right, I'm ready, hope we won't be too late," I said, tugging on the bottom of my blazer to make it hang correctly as I left the bedroom. "Let me get my coat and—what, Mulder?"

He was standing with coffee cup in hand, staring at me like a food addict at a piece of chocolate cake just on the other side of a bakery window. "Jesus, you look hot as hell in that outfit," he said in a deep, husky tone I'd only ever heard from him once before, and which instantly caused my body to sit up and pay attention. "You have got _the_ sexiest legs I've ever seen, especially in those shoes."

I privately thought that my runner's calves were too heavy for the skirt lengths I bought, which were in fashion and what every stylish professional woman was wearing these days, but I wasn't about to argue with him. I stopped just inside the living room and took a deep breath, immediately realizing my mistake when Mulder's eyes zeroed in on my chest. I was wearing a snug black Donna Karan skirt and blazer set with a blue-gray top under it, which came to my collarbone but, I now noticed as I glanced down, was tight across my breasts as was the blazer. He appeared to be nearly drooling, and I felt my breasts swell as his gaze lingered on them. If we hadn't been a full room away from each other I knew we'd have leapt on each other, and we couldn't do that again. My whole body was on fire for him; I yearned, I burned, I needed, I wanted him so desperately I could barely hold myself in check. "Should… should I change?" I asked hesitantly, afraid to meet his eyes as they lifted to my face. "Will this bother you too much?"

"God, no. I'd rather go through the day being tortured by watching you than not," he breathed, standing. "Christ, Scully…" his voice trailed off as he turned away, putting his mug in the sink and then leaning on the edge of it with both hands, shoulders bowed, head lowered.

"For someone who doesn't believe in God you certainly use his name in vain a lot lately," I remarked, trying to lighten the mood, change the subject, and defuse this wild emotion between us.

"We both used it a lot more than this on _that_ night," he said raggedly. "Scully, how long can we go on like this?"

I turned away, heaving another sigh as his deep, husky voice caused an additional frisson of molten desire to run through me, making it difficult to keep my words calm and at their normal pitch. Jesus, if this kept up I'd have to go put on a panty liner or ruin my underwear. "As long as we have to, Mulder. We know it's for the best."

He snorted an unamused laugh. "The day it no longer matters may come sooner than we think if we both keep frustrating the hell out of ourselves like this. This is bothering you, too, right, Scully?"

"Dammit, Mulder, you know it is," I said with exasperation as I picked my heavy beige coat off of the coat tree and checked the pockets for my wallet, ID, and keys. The weight of my gun in its usual belt holster was comforting in the small of my back beneath the blazer. I couldn't resist yanking his chain a little and as I swung my coat on I added, "Or weren't you paying attention that night?"

"Paying attention doesn't begin to cover it," he said hoarsely from almost directly behind me, and I froze. I knew if he so much as brushed against any part of me I was his. I'd have him stripped naked and in my bed in no time, agreement or no agreement. "I almost wish I could forget it, yet I bless my memory that lets me remember every single moment."

I shivered, not hiding it from him. "I may not have your eidetic memory, but I remember every moment as well," I admitted in a low voice, not letting myself sway back against him like I desperately wanted to. God, what I wouldn't give to feel his arms around me, our tongues in each other's mouths, our naked bodies straining together again. I had never felt so wanted, loved, and thoroughly fucked as I had when we'd gotten done. "We, uh, we have to go, Mulder."

"I know, Scully, we're already half an hour late." He moved out from behind me and went over to the door, opening it and holding it for me.

And, of course, it happened.

It took no more than the faintest touch of his hand against my lower back, something he'd done hundreds or perhaps thousands of times before, for us to suddenly be in each other's arms. He swung me back against the doorway as I wrapped my arms around his waist over his suit jacket and pulled him against me, lifting my face to his and knowing it would be there.

His hot mouth crushed down on mine with a fierceness that was nothing but arousing as his arms snaked around my shoulders and pulled me against him. The blazing kiss went on and on, and despite being pressed between the side of the doorway and his hard, strong body I felt no discomfort, not even from my breasts nearly flattened against his chest, only wild, urging arousal that I only half-battled to control.

He suddenly backed away from me, both of us letting go and staring at each other as he came up against the other side of the doorway, bumping the door itself so it swung back even more. "Jesus Christ, Scully, what just happened here?" he muttered, clenching his fists at his side. "I didn't plan to kiss you, I didn't mean to, it just happened."

"I know," I breathed, trying to get a hold on myself as well. "I didn't mean for that to happen either."

"I don't know how long we can go on like this, Scully," he said raggedly, wiping one shaking hand over his face. "I don't know how long _I_ can go on like this without losing my mind."

"We have to," I said almost desperately, pushing away from the wall and smoothing my hair, knowing I'd have to fix my lipstick in the car since we had no time for me to head back to the bathroom and do it. "Come on, let's get going."

The distressed yet aroused look on his expressive face, jaw clenching to show the muscle there and his eyes narrowed down to dark triangular slits, almost broke my resolve but I dared not be the one to openly start it between us again so I shored up my resolve and moved into the hallway.

Although it sometimes had in the past, it did me no good whatsoever right now to know that he was suffering as much as I was.

:::

After sitting through the last half of what was perhaps the second most boring meeting in FBI history and then, after everyone else but Skinner left his office, getting our collective asses chewed out, Scully and I returned to the basement with our raging libidos subdued and no longer a problem… for the moment, anyway. We were both so cowed that we quietly went to our usual places—my desk, her counter in the back—and began to work on the reports that we had been supposed to present today but had forgotten about with everything else that was going on.

Everything else being, of course, our one and only night together exactly thirteen days ago, today, that both of us were totally distracted by.

Jesus, why were we having such a problem leaving it alone? I wondered with half my mind as I sorted through a stack of photos trying to decide which ones to include in my report about our case of the souped-up high school kids that had been closed weeks ago but the paperwork never finished.

It had happened in a moment of alcohol-assisted silliness during exultant camaraderie, joking around in high-spirited delight that we'd really and truly wrapped up a case and, even better, helped save a young boy's life. After we went back to the hotel that night in Chicago, I'd gone and bought a bottle of champagne and a couple of plastic glasses at the hotel bar, then taken them back to Scully's room to celebrate. I didn't have anything else on my mind; I knew that as well as I knew anything about myself, well, no more than I usually did anyway. I didn't go planning to seduce her, I simply wanted to celebrate one of our rare true successes with my best friend.

We were on the bed together, me sitting with my back against the headboard and legs stretched out, Scully sprawled on her side a few inches away, laughing and joking, when it happened. "Wonder Twin powers activated!" I half-yelled, lifting my empty hand so she could high-five it. We'd been getting sillier and sillier as the level in the champagne bottle dropped, and while not really drunk thanks to the large dinner we'd stopped for on the way back, we were in quite high spirits.

She smacked my palm with her left hand since her right hand, the nearest to me, was holding her plastic wineglass on the bed, crying out, "Captain Caveman to the rescue!"

I nearly choked on my champagne, putting my glass aside, and grabbed her hand before it could get away. "You are _not_ old enough to remember Captain Caveman! And you're a girl, you need to be Wonder Woman or Batgirl or something."

"They're not Saturday morning cartoons, they're comic book heroes," she argued, twining her fingers with mine as our hands fell to her the bed between us. "And I'm no whiny girly superhero, you know damn well I'm just as strong and capable as any guy."

"Damn straight you are," I agreed, smiling down at her and squeezing her hand. "Superhero Scully to the rescue."

"Never without her tried-and-true-blue partner, Mayhem Mulder!" she laughed, laying back and pulling me with her. I don't to this day know if she meant to but I lost my balance, rolled over towards her, and ended up on my arms over her upper torso, staring down into her smiling blue eyes. Luckily I hadn't been holding my glass or she and the bed around her would have been drenched. "Well, this is unexpected but nice."

I was still in a giddy mood and grinned down at her. "Could get nicer," I hinted suggestively, waggling my eyebrows and preparing to move away. I really didn't mean to start anything, but the feel of her soft body half-beneath mine was nice indeed, and I was in no hurry to move.

"Oh really? How much nicer?" she asked coquettishly, looking up at me through her thick dark eyelashes, and I realized that she had disengaged and lifted her free hand to toy with the short hairs on the back of my neck which caused shivers to run through me.

I raised a brow at her and decided to see just how far she'd let me take the game. "As nice as you want it," I said, leaning down and brushing the tip of my nose gently against hers, giving Eskimo kisses that could easily be mistaken for nothing more than friendship. I meant it to be a mostly-friendly but suggestive touch, easy for her to interpret any way she wanted, but what I didn't expect was the way she turned and rubbed her cheek against mine, a faint purring moan bubbling from between her parted lips. I had to know. "Is this nice enough, Scully?"

"Nowhere near, Mulder," she sighed, and then to my complete shock she tilted her head and kissed me. My world had imploded down to nothing more than the taste of her champagne-drenched mouth and I had hesitated no more. She made it clear that she wanted me as much as I wanted her, and as the kiss intensified in intensity our bodies moved together of their own violation. I moved her glass to the end table, and then concentrated on undressing her— "Mulder? Mulder! Where were you?" Scully's voice from nearby startled me from my daydreams. "You've been sitting there staring at that photo for ten minutes."

I looked up to see her standing just a few feet away, leaning against one of the beige filing cabinets and smiling at me.

"Back in bed with you," I said low enough that no one outside the open office door could hear me. But she did, I noted as a faint pink flush covered her face and upper chest.

But her smile didn't fade; in fact it grew stronger if anything. "Captain Caveman to the rescue," she said equally soft, her bright eyes sparkling over at me. God, I loved how happy she'd been since that day, smiling more and seeming lighthearted despite the lack of sleep we were both suffering.

"I still say you're not old enough to remember that show."

"Missy was three years older than me, Mulder, and you're not much more than that. We watched cartoons every Saturday morning and he was her favorite character on _Scooby-Doo's Laugh-a-Lympics_, hence I remember him. So there." She lifted one brow for emphasis and then turned to the filing cabinet, opening the top drawer. "Where did you file the Rob Roberts case? Under 'M' for monster or 'C' for California?"

I couldn't help laughing and shaking my head. "Come on, Scully, you know better. Neither is obscure enough. 'L' for Lucky Boy."

"I should have known," she said drily, shaking her head. Watching her hair wave back and forth against the back of her neck made me itch to get my hands in it, feel its heavy, silky softness and weight as I threaded my fingers through it to hold her head as I kissed her over and over again.

"Mulder…!"

I blinked at her. "What?"

"You were looking at me like Rob Roberts probably looked at a tray of brains. What did I do this time?"

"You don't have to do anything, Scully, just be yourself," I told her huskily, wanting so damn badly to vault out of my chair and go press her back against the cabinet, devour her from the mouth down—especially along those collarbones just visible above her shirt—that I was nearly trembling with desire.

She looked back at me with equal longing, her hands curled around the front of the open drawer; the worst part of this whole thing was that I knew she felt the same about me. There was no more uncertainty or wondering or fear of being rejected. If this woman didn't love and want me as much as I loved and wanted her, then she deserved to take Meryl Streep's Oscars from her.

But we also knew that should any of our enemies find out we were sexually involved our work would be worth shit and the agonies of the past six years would have been for nothing. We'd become the laughingstock of the Bureau even more than we were now, our reputations completely ruined, and never taken seriously by anyone again. Even when you weren't Mr. & Mrs. Spooky, partners who got involved were always treated with derision and often hounded out of the FBI after being separated. It was worse for same-sex partners, but not by much.

I heard the elevator doors down the hall slide open and dragged my eyes away from Scully's with an effort, staring down unseeingly at the file in front of me as I heard footsteps approaching. Very few people visited us down here so I waited for the light thudding to pass, assuming it was a janitor heading for the main supply closet or clerk going to the archives or even another agent down here to use our never-crowded bathrooms, as sometimes happened.

To my surprise, Walter Skinner entered our office and stopped just inside the doorway. "Agent Scully, I was hoping I'd catch you still here. We just received a body at Quantico I'd like you to autopsy," he said without preamble, standing in the doorway with arms folded over his broad chest. "It's a suspected mob killing, and I need you to look for the hired killer's special signature. I've had all the pertinent files sent ahead, they'll be with the body by the time you arrive."

"Yes, sir," she said, removing a file from the cabinet and walking over to set it on the workbench where she'd been sitting earlier. I assumed she'd found the Rob Roberts case which was, indeed, filed under 'R'. "I'll head out immediately."

"Thank you, Agent. Keep me updated as you can; the D.A. is particularly interested this one." He started to turn away, then glared over the desk in my direction. "What are you up to, Mulder?"

Obviously he was still pissed at me, which was nothing new. There were times his annoyance lasted for weeks depending on my fuckup level. "Updating the reports you asked for, sir," I said in a carefully neutral tone. "I'll have them by the end of the day as requested."

"Tomorrow morning will do, meet me in my office at nine. I might have a new case for you then," he said gruffly and then turned and left with no further ado.

Scully and I looked at each other across the office, her quirking an eyebrow and me pursing my lips. As always no words were needed; I simply sat and watched her as she got ready to go. As she put her coat on I couldn't resist asking, "Going to be home later tonight, Scully?"

She paused at the doorway and looked back at me, her shiny red, parted lips catching my eye. "Yes, I don't know what time, but it's not a good idea—"

"Why don't you call me when you leave Quantico and we can have dinner?" I improvised. "Nothing more, nothing less."

She hesitated, and then nodded as she turned back towards the doorway. "Let's eat in a restaurant, no take-out or pizza delivery," she called back over her shoulder. "See you later, Mulder."

Grinning, I doubled my attention to the reports, not wanting to have them distracting me tonight; even though it would go no further I could at least enjoy her company without anything else on my mind.

:::

"Oh, God, Scully, you've got me using the Lord's name in vain again," Mulder groaned against my neck before his soft yet firm lips began nibbling along my carotid artery.

"If you keep this up I'll be doing the same shortly, Mulder," I sighed, arching my back so that my breasts rubbed against his chest. Despite the cold air of the January evening I was warmer than I'd ever been—outside of the night we'd spent together, that was.

Which would, if we didn't slow down, happen again very, very soon.

My head rolled back against the brick wall, strands of my hair catching on the rough surface but barely noticed as I ran my hands up and down Mulder's hard, muscled back between his shirt and suit jacket, feeling the weight of his heavy overcoat pressing him even closer to me.

We were making out against the outside wall of the restaurant where we'd just had dinner, squeezed between my car and the brick wall. It took nothing more than Mulder trying to be a gentleman and his arm brushing against my shoulder as he went to open my car door for us to end up like this.

Was it worth fighting any more? I wondered with some part of my brain that wasn't totally filled with him and what we were doing to each other. No matter how hard we tried to stay apart, how we rationalized it, we kept ending up in each other's arms. Though we hadn't gone to bed together again, this was far from our first hot-and-heavy unplanned make-out session that we found ourselves in without warning since that night two weeks ago.

I had been afraid that after the debacle with Donnie Pfaster that I wouldn't be able to respond to Mulder again, but that same night when he was comforting me it happened again. I knew he hadn't meant to start anything, but it was with relief that I felt myself respond to his touch and kiss with the same powerful emotion and longing. Sometimes it was only when I was in Mulder's arms that I could forget the entire incident.

Which didn't help matters any on my end.

"Oh, to hell with it, let's go find a motel," I finally breathed into the cold air. "This is insane, Mulder, we're torturing ourselves when we don't have to."

He pulled his mouth away from where he was busy licking the dip between my collarbones, his breath warm and moist on my skin. "Scully… do we dare?"

"I doubt anyone's following us tonight and a motel room certainly won't be bugged like our apartments probably are."

Groaning, he stood up straight, rubbing his lower body against mine, and then covered my mouth with his again in a long, deep kiss that had my head spinning. Coming up for air sometime later he said, "You have a point."

"Don't you know by now that I'm always right?" I murmured against his lips, reveling in the feel of his long, hard body pressed against mine and anticipating what was to come. And it wasn't just the physical ecstasy, which was considerable, but the emotional bond we shared that made it so incredible.

"Right now I'm not going to argue that," he murmured, "but this discussion will resume after our tryst."

"Let's take my car, leave yours here," I said as he lessened his weight against me and I reluctantly lowered my arms from around his waist. "That way no one will see both of our cars at the motel."

"And if we are being tracked they'll think it's just you there," he said, looking at me admiringly with his arms still around my shoulders, the fingers of one hand toying with the ends of my hair. "I should have just let you figure this one out."

I was already having second thoughts as we moved away from each other. "Mulder, maybe—"

"Uh-uh, Scully, no changing your mind this time," he said, gazing down at me with serious eyes set in a sensually aroused face. His expressions often got me as stimulated as his touch; those full, soft lips were my downfall much of the time. "Your considerations are valid but I think it'll be safe enough. Besides, don't you think that we deserve to try this when we're stone cold sober, not squiffed on champagne?"

God, I couldn't bear to see his expression turn to disappointment if I talked him out of it; I _had_ started this. "So where _is_ the nearest motel, Mulder?"

"Right around the corner if I'm not mistaken."

"Is that why you picked this restaurant?"

"I'll never tell."

:::

"We're going to be hurting in the morning."

I rolled over and propped my head on one hand, elbow in the bed, but didn't cuddle too close as we were both still hot and sweaty. "Especially since I'm not done with you yet, G-woman."

She groaned, but smiled over into my eyes in the dim lighting. "I meant sleep-wise."

"I'd rather do this than sleep, and I haven't been getting much of that recently anyway," I said, reaching up to brush a heavy lock of tangled hair out of her eyes. "If we gotta lose sleep this is the way to do it, you know."

"Don't forget that I have to go in early and finish that autopsy," she said, reaching out to briefly rub the back of her hand against the dark hair on my chest, then letting it fall back to the bed between our damp bodies. "I found cause of death but left right after that to meet you."

"Mmn-hmn," I said, moving my hand from her face down her neck and trailing my fingers between her breasts but not touching them, ending with my hand resting lightly on her flat, taut belly. "So what do you think, Scully, are we better or worse at this when we're sober?"

"Ooh, hard to say. We had an awful lot of fun that first time, but on the other hand this one was more intense and physically satisfying."

"Are you saying my performance wasn't up to par that first time?"

"Not at all. I'm saying that this time we weren't distracted by all the first-time nervousness and less relaxed from the alcohol, so we were able to concentrate more and better on each other."

"Now that I like the sound of," I leered gently at her, leaning over and giving her a brief peck on the lips. As much as I didn't want this night to end, she was right—we both needed to go home and get some rest. I didn't want us to sleep here… although, come to think of it, we _were_ nearly equidistant from our apartments, mine being maybe ten minutes further away than hers. "And practice makes perfect, you know."

She chuffed amusement, then turned a serious face towards me. "Mulder, you know we can't keep doing this. Everything we talked about after the first time still holds valid now. Nothing's changed except that our willpower gave out in the face of reason."

I was tempted to point out to her that _she_ had been the one to break our agreement, but I hoped for one more bout before we had to leave and that remark wouldn't have been conductive to more sex. Instead I leaned down and kissed her gently, non-demandingly, leaving my one hand on her stomach and the other supporting my head. "Is it better for us to deny ourselves and get to the point of suffering from sleep deprivation, or to indulge ourselves like this once in a while and be able to function normally?" I said. "I'm not saying we should spend every night together, or even _any_ night at our respective apartments, but once in a while like this shouldn't be too much of a danger."

I could see her mulling it over, and wondered if perhaps I shouldn't have used this argument before we had sex rather than after.

"But Mulder, what if the more we get, the more we want?" she said, turning her head to look at me seriously. "You know, that's what honeymoons are for—so that the new couple can get the physical out of the way before they end up missing work and staying indoors for days screwing their brains out."

I laughed. "Elegantly put, Dr. Scully," I teased gently. "And I do, indeed, think that's what will happen, but knowing we can have this instead of totally denying ourselves will make it bearable. At least for me."

She heaved a sigh, her full breasts jiggling and catching my attention. "You do have a point."

I'd had enough of her waffling and decided to take charge of this conversation. This time when I kissed her I went all-out, sinking my free hand into her thick hair to hold her skull as I showed her everything I was feeling for her in that kiss. Then my world whirled and I found myself flat on my back, a sexy-eyed, red-haired beauty perched on my chest with both arms around my shoulders so that we were nearly nose-to-nose. "Mulder, do you _really_ think I'd be arguing doing this more often?" she smiled at me. "We do have to be careful, but speaking of addicted… that I am. To you," she said, her voice dropping to a low, husky register that went straight to my groin.

I wrapped my arms around her narrow waist, moving one hand to caress her soft yet firm bottom while the other slid up her toned back. "So, for this honeymoon thing… think we can stay here for the next week then claim to have been kidnapped?"

"Nice try, G-man, and if we weren't federal agents we might get away with it," she said, rubbing her nose against mine. "Let's finish out this night, see what tomorrow brings, and keep a checklist of safe places for when we just can't take it anymore."

"Sounds like a plan to me," I agreed, having had enough of talking. "Speaking of not taking it anymore—"

"Me too," she breathed, and then all thoughts of anything but making love to each other were banished from both of us.

_Epilogue--two weeks later_

"Good heavens, Mulder, what brought _that_ on?!"

We rested against each other, panting, unable to move.

"The next time you show me a magic trick, Scully, do it while standing up, okay? I only have so much willpower, you know."

_finis_


End file.
